In The Night
by Salivour
Summary: Draco loves his husband, but he can't help but fear in the middle of the night. One shot drabble.


Draco tries shutting his eyes again, closing them for only an instant before it's impossible to not see any longer and he has to look. He couldn't bring himself to just keep his eyes shut, to not look over at his husband every few minutes, at least not until he's just so tired he falls asleep from sheer necessity. He just wants to fall asleep and let his mind drift off in the arms of his husband.

But he could never let go of his thoughts, his mind always drifts to where he doesn't want it to. Harry - bloody Gryffindor - sleeps through Draco's insomnia, curled up on his side, and attempting to clutch at Draco like some clingy hookup and not a husband of seven years. Draco loves the silly thing, half young and innocent, half old and battle-worn. Harry's kittenish in his sleep, making the most adorable squeaks if prodded or started.

Draco tries lying down, facing his husband, gently running a finger over his face, tracing the contours. Harry scrunches up his nose and lets out a little meep. It's fear that keeps Draco awake, stupid fear that he should have let go of years ago. In the years after the Dark Lord fell - still calls him the Dark Lord like he'll hear - there was a hunt to imprison any Death Eater.

Draco knows that his family's wealth was the only thing that had prevent them all being given the kiss. Many thought they deserved worse, and his relationship with Harry was just a sham to exact revenge on their beloved saviour. This connection they had - love - had started with Harry trying to be polite in a shop. Just gradually, it was no longer weird to greet the other until eventually Draco wound up stood up in a restaurant by a nice lady who decided she was too nervous to be seen with the likes of a Malfoy. Potter, bored of a couple of ministry workers who wanted the publicity of being seen with him, had plopped himself opposite Draco. Finished meals and only a good glass of red had facilitated fishing for conversation. Draco blamed manners for inviting Potter out for drinks the following week.

Draco was keenly aware of the looks he and Harry got as drinks turned into a weekly event. Some were just angry at the sight of Harry and a Death Eater, glaring at them. Other's would quietly inform Harry of who they thought Draco was as though he wouldn't know. One or two even let Harry know that 'not everyone could be saved.' Harry would take them all with a disinterested nod and then keep right on talking to Draco as though nothing had happened. Draco could help but fall in love. Harry was the only one who wasn't trying to put a label on him. Once they started seeing each other at Harry's house without the crowd he found he could laugh, relax around Harry.

They had just fallen together, conviences really. Draco moved in with Harry, and they only had one bed, though it was big enough. They just never brought separate beds. Everything fell into place for them, at their own pace. Now they were stuck together. Draco knew that Harry loved him right back - wouldn't have said yes to an awkward mumbled proposal of marriage in bed otherwise - but the niggling in the back of his head remains He;s seen first hand the effects of the dementor's kiss from his family's 'processing' as Death Eaters, and the effect of just being around them from his father. He values his life, he's scared of pain. He can see the living, empty corpses in his vision of those who had been kissed. He can see himself being sent to Azkaban with no escape. He can see eventually feeling a wand at the back of his neck. He fears Harry, no matter how much he loves him. Fears that one day Harry will change his mind or realise who Draco was and drag him off to the fate he fears.

He knows it's silly. Of course Harry wouldn't, but he can't help but have that fear always there. He's close to crying. He's that tired and mindlessly frightened from what his mind supplies in the dark like he's some kid. He lets out a huff, banging his head into the pillow. He just wants to sleep.

Harry shifts, one his eyes slowly cracks open. Shoot. He never means to wake Harry. Draco doesn't want Harry to worry; doesn't want him to know or just plain thinks he'll laugh. He really should trust his husband more.

Harry's blinking at him now, it always takes him a while to catch up when he first wakes. "Draco?" he murmurs.

Draco runs a hand though his hair, soothing, "It's okay. Go back to sleep."

Harry just looks confused, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Harry," Draco sighs, "Go back to sleep."

Harry snuggles in closer to him, wrapping him in a hug. Draco thinks that he's fallen right back asleep before a pair of lips presses up against the corner of his mouth. "Why you awake?"

Why are you awake, Draco almost corrects. He shrugs, doesn't want to give an answer.

It's Harry trying to soothe Draco now, running his fingers through blonde hair. "Draco..." he drags in the name out in exasperation.

Draco pulls Harry closer, kissing his temple and burying his face into Harry's neck. "I'm sorry. I love you," he whispers.

"Love you too," Harry says, almost automatic by now, "Tell me...?"

"I don't want to go to Azkaban," says Draco. He keeps his face buried.

Harry sighs again, "No one does. You're here, love."

Draco clutches Harry tighter, he doesn't want to say. "I know..." his hand runs over the faint remanents of the Dark Mark on his arm. Harry catches his hand, enclosing it in his own.

"That's over, you're here now. Don't - don't, please don't let it control you. I love you, I'll never, ever let you go! Do you honestly think for a second that I would?" Harry gently pulls Draco up to look at him, and Draco knows he must look a fright. He feels lips on his own, chastely brushing over.

"Harry," Draco says, "I know. I know all that. I just can't help but think."

Harry stays close, pressing against him, "Is this every night?"

Draco nods mutely. Harry sighs, "I wish you had told me, but you wake me when you need me, okay?"

"Okay," Draco chokes out. He knows that nothing but time, and maybe never will stop the fear that's go ingrained within him. But having Harry there, murmuring comfort and holding him some how makes it easier. He squeezes the other closer and kisses him. Even in the dead of night, he's awake still, just to watch Harry. It's still partially because he loves him, but more and more it's because Draco loves Harry so desperately that he needs him more than anything.

Harry just lets out a little squeak the next time Draco tries to kiss him, and Draco knows he's fallen asleep again. Draco manages to drift off in his arms after extracting him arm from underneath him.


End file.
